Finally, a little bit of joy

 This has been a tough winter, but I am so happy to announce some good news.

Just one of the many beds Andy built for us to grow food in.

1) Our garden.  Andy built some gorgeous beds this spring and last fall, we overwintered greens, and suddenly our side yard is full of edibles.  It seems like every day I find something new growing out there.  Today, as I was planting nasturtiums, I found a leek.  Just one, but it's my leek and I love it.

All this food suddenly showed up!

2) New job starting next fall!  I am stepping off the looking for a job hamster wheel of frustration, false hopes, and bad interviews, and joining the team of a charter school in Salt Lake as a third grade teacher.

3) I am starting a volunteer position with the county as a bicycle ambassador.  It is similar to what I did in Portland for Transportation Options,  but the scope is bigger and the mandate more finite- to create a culture of cycling.  Fun!  Talking to people about bikes?  Hell yeah.  

4) Guatemala in 60 days, to study in Xela for two weeks, in the jungle for a week, and then a week on my own.  Seriously.  GUATEMALA!!! 

5) Moab trip.  Need I say more?

Klondike Bluffs, overlooking Arches.  I biked here with my best friend and it was AWESOME.

6) Chickens.  They live behind our house, under the care of our delightful neighbor.  Who can't be cheered up by chickens?

It is all a bit overwhelming, to be honest.  Giving notice at my job, wrapping things up gracefully and without short-timer's syndrome, 120 narrative progress reports to write, and all the other things I've got going on (professional development at the zoo and the aviary!), physical therapy for my foot, etc. etc.

Who knew that spring would fly by so quickly, and suddenly all I can think about is gardening and margaritas.  Gardening with margaritas.  Margaritas made from things grown in my garden.  Mmmmm- nice.

"...A candidate with more experience..."

As in- "you were a great candidate for this job, but we've selected a candidate with more experience."

  For the fourth or fifth time- in the last twenty-four hours.  Well, I guess that's fair.  But how do you get experience?  By subbing for two years?  By running a pre-school? By teaching part-time?  By getting a Master's degree and spending an entire year in a classroom?  OK, check.  So how does that magical experience get transferred on to me?  Can someone tell me?  Because I'm trying so hard, and there seems to be nothing I can do.  How do you get experience if no one will give you a chance?

Clearly, I'm frustrated.  After a month or two of putting my resume into what felt like black holes, I had a week of exhilaration- three interviews, prospects, all kinds of good things.  I was even thinking that I might just have something that a principal was looking for.  You know, like a master's, ELL certification, bilingual, etc.

But I guess I don't have that one thing- that experience thing- enough to be competitive.

I know that I should be grateful that I have a job for next year in the first place, even if it is part time.  I should be grateful that I made a friend last night, and that I have a wonderful husband and cat and home.  But wow- I'm getting tired of feeling like I'm not enough.

Spring Break!

Spring break this year was a bit of an anti-climax, but still great.  I had a lot of work things to do- a job fair on Saturday (horrific, heart-breaking, and a complete waste of time), two days of work at the Extended Day program, and one morning spent taking yet another state test.

However, right in the middle, we took off and went south to the desert.  Specifically, we went to the San Rafael Swell, Goblin Valley, and Capital Reef.

Goblins look dramatic in the late afternoon, Goblin Valley State Park

 We spent the first night camping at Goblin Valley State Park, inventing a drink called the Goblin (Kalua, whiskey, hot cocoa), and enjoying the incredible landscape.  I hadn't been there in about twenty years- and it was every bit as amazing as I'd remembered.

In the morning, we woke up, ate a very leisurely camp breakfast, and packed up.  We decided to try a ride behind the San Rafael Swell.  We had road bikes and weren't sure how rough the dirt roads would be.  It turns out they were pretty rough, and after a few hard miles, we turned around.  It was gorgeous though, and we saw some petroglyphs.

Andy climbing up ripio just behind the San Rafael Swell

 Finally, we drove to Capitol Reef State Park.  Although the visitor center was delightful (I LOVE state park visitor centers), we weren't too thrilled with the camp ground, so we headed north and up to the nearby Dixie State Forest to try to find some dispersed camping.  I was a bit nervous because the visitor's center had reported an increased amount of mountain lion activity in the area, but we didn't see any big cats.

What we did find was a lovely spot with a fire ring, bare and dry enough to camp in but with snow patches surrounding us.  Also, piñon nuts.  I foraged, and brought them back to camp.  Andy got to experience fresh piñon nuts for the first time, and made the connection that piñon trees make pine nuts.
Andy also built a wonderful fire, and we sipped whiskey and looked at the stars.

Alpine Forest, 7500 feet, and in the distance you can see the red rocks of Capitol Reef

Finally, the day that we had to go back, we drove back to Capitol Reef and rode in on the scenic highway.  The park is very quiet, and even on a Saturday during spring we were only passed by three or four cars on the road.  It was lovely, all red rock and blue sky and oh-so-familiar to me.  I came back feeling a little bit more like myself.  And I passed that stupid test with flying colors.

Long Week, short weekend

I got some disappointing but entirely expected news last week: I won't be continuing in the position of Spanish teacher at my school.  This was expected but I was also fervently hoping it wouldn't come true.  Mostly.  The teacher that I was covering this year for is returning from her sabbatical.  It's a bit crap because she was a brand new teacher (like me) and was only at the school a year when they said she could come back.  Really?  Yes.  Really.

So although intellectually I know it's not about me, nor is it in any way a reflection of how much I am valued, emotionally it is devastating and personal.  My colleagues are so great, but in some ways they are making it worse by telling me (in all honesty) that I'm a much stronger teacher than the person I replaced, that the school is foolish for making this decision, etc.  I mean, it's great to hear how awesome I am from the people who I work with every day, but it's also frustrating because of the general unfairness of the situation.  No- unfairness isn't the right word, because I signed that contract knowing exactly what I was getting into.  Injustice, maybe.

I've worked so hard to be awesome in this job, and now I have to pound the pavement again, wonder about my future, and worry about my financial stability.  The thought of starting all over again makes me shake with exhaustion.  The actual tasks of getting my Utah license to teach (approximately $500.00 in costs, by the way), taking the test that Utah requires because California, Oregon, and Nevada (all states that have accepted that I am qualified to teach) aren't good enough for Utah, and putting together work samples, online portfolios, etc. are overwhelming.  Plus, I have a cold.

In the good things department:

I had an opportunity to take advantage of living in a city yesterday and went to see a much-loved author, Cory Doctorow, speak downtown.  It was pretty mind-blowing.  First, instead of just reading from his book, he let the audience vote on either a reading or a talk, and we overwhelmingly voted for the talk. The talk was focused on the idea of making our devices and computers serve us, and why that is a life or death question.  He used a lot of court cases to examine ridiculous laws having to do with privacy protections, and framed the whole talk around the tragedy of Aaron Schwartz, a young man who committed suicide, partially as a result of some really insane prosecution regarding copyright and the internets.

Aside from the fact that I found the topic to be absolutely fascinating and something that I wanted to learn more about, Mr. Doctorow is also a great speaker.  Alternately funny, compassionate, and serious, he spoke from a place of conviction.  And later, after I asked a question as a teacher, he thanked me for being a teacher!  Also, he deliberately-but-casually used female pronouns when talking about positions of power.  "The judge makes a decision and she writes her opinion."  "The heart surgeon opens up the patient and uses her expertise to put a computer in his heart."  (Not exact quotes, but you get the idea.)  Needless to say, I really liked that he used language so specifically.

He still has some tour dates coming up, so if you are one of the four people reading this and have a chance to see him, I highly recommend it even if you have never read his books.  Then, go out and read his books.

Derechos Humanos-Human Rights

If you know me, you know that I'm passionate about rights for undocumented immigrants.  I refuse to even use the word "illegal" because that is a government construct.  How can a person be illegal?  They can certainly be without immigration papers, or undocumented, but not illegal.  Language matters.

I heard about this documentary, currently opening at the Sundance Film Festival up in Park City, on the radio and was intrigued.  The preview, shown below, is worth a few minutes of your time.

I knew that the journey into the USA was incredibly dangerous, but I was not aware that the journey across México was equally horrific.



Many, many thanks to Gael García Bernal for caring about these people, and showing their humanity.

Values and Spousal Relations Part 2: Books we Both own

Catch 22- Joseph Heller
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas- Hunter S. Thompson
Watership Down- Richard Adams
Nine Stories- JD Salinger
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest- Ken Kesey

Shared values are important.

Shared books are part of shared values, therefore shared books are important.

When we moved this last time, we finally had room for Andy to unpack some boxes of books.  We discovered that we had double copies of a few things that we needed to get rid of. 

These are the books that we've both dragged around from house to house, acquired at least 15 years ago for both of us.  In fact, the negotiations about which particular editions we were going to keep were fraught with emotions.

This is the discard pile.

What does that say about us?  Good things, I think.  These are the books that meant a great deal to us when we were becoming our own selves.  Neat, huh?

I totally agree...Why I Don't Shave My Legs

The other evening was Andy's turn to make dinner while I decompressed with some internet time.  It was my pleasure to discover that an old friend wrote/illustrated a book that sounds fantastic, and a joy to be financially stable enough to not just wish I could order it, but actually do so.

Exploring her weblog led me to this video, and all I could think of is "Wow- me too*, and  I miss Gwenn.**"


Why I don't shave my legs from Gwenn Seemel on Vimeo.

*I have not shaved my legs since about 7th grade, except for the time when I was getting my tattoos, when my smooth legs really freaked me out even if the tattoos did look a little better.

**Gwenn and I met on a production by Sojourn Theatre called Seven Great Loves.  That production is, to this day, the piece that I am most proud of being a part of in my career.  She is not only an incredible visual artist, she can move like no one I've ever met- she is a highly trained physical actor.